


Too Close To Home

by This_ape_writes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, death of minor original character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_ape_writes/pseuds/This_ape_writes
Summary: Bones loses a patient and it hits a little too close to home.





	

In med school I had a professor that taught me two very important things. 

The first thing was that empathy was a necessary ingredient that made all the difference between a good doctor and a great one. 

The second was that learning when to shut empathy off and to distance yourself when it got too rough was the only way that any doctor would ever be able to survive. 

 

The third thing I learned on my own was that some cases didn't give you a choice. They hit you too close to home and empathy was going to be there, and you were going to be destroyed, and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. 

 

My father had been that case for me. 

Most people don't have cases literally hit that close to home but I guess I'm just lucky like that. 

He hadn't even been my patient. Not really. Not in any legal sense, but after he was gone I wasn't the same. It was too close. I'd done too much. I couldn't come back from the edge. 

 

So I became the cliché. 

I drank myself into oblivion.

I lost my wife. 

I lost my kid. 

I lost me. 

And I ran. 

I ran as far as I fucking could. 

 

And I ran right into James. 

 

And dammit, that wasn't fair. 

I was supposed to feel worthless and dead and he wormed his way in and refused me that. 

I'd prepared for every curve ball I could think of except for Jim 'Fucking Ray Of Sunshine' Kirk. 

He pulled me out of my tailspin so fast and so effortlessly I didn't realize it was happening and before I could even blink I was ok again. 

I was happy. 

And he made feel like I had the right to be. 

 

But the thing about those patient barriers is that once they're knocked clean it can take awhile to rebuild. 

And even though this time it wasn't quite so personal, I wasn't prepared for another hit. 

Not yet. 

It was too soon. 

And the thing is I didn't see it coming. 

I didn't see how it even COULD be coming. 

Yes I was technically working two nights in a trauma emergency room but only for a few hours. Just to keep my licenses active and my skills sharp. I didn't have time for anything else, I was too busy trying to get through the academy in three years. 

I wasn't even working peak hours. 

I had the shift from four to midnight. 

It was a short shift and I was gone before the rough cases came in. Perks of knowing a few academy higher ups that could pull some strings and call in some favors. 

So most days I had one patient. Maybe two? 

A few cuts.

A concussion. 

Lots of cases of the flu. 

Really I was a glorified bandaid dispenser. 

But it was predictable. 

It was helping me rebuild. 

And above all else it was SAFE. 

 

Until it wasn't. 

 

The kid was seventeen, and just like my dad, this one wasn't my patient either. 

He'd been admitted under Doctor Bryant right before his shift ended and mine began. 

And it was already too late. 

Now everyone with a known allergy has a chip that's implanted in the skin just to the side of their thumb on the back of their left hand. 

Intake procedures dictate to scan for one of those chips in every single patient, every single time, so every doctor should catch them. 

But that first thing I learned in med school, about empathy making good doctors great? 

In this case it would have been true. 

I had that empathy because Jim was allergic to more things that I could keep track of, so I was extra aware of that chip. It wasn't the first thing I looked for as part of an impersonal checklist. It was the first thing I looked for out of hyperawareness of just how important it was. 

Now anything could go wrong for any of us at any given time, but I am confident in saying that had I come on to my shift just a few minutes earlier, or had this kid broken his arm just a few minutes later, I would have patched him up, he would have gone home, and the whole thing would have disappeared with all my other patients and I would have forgotten his name. 

Jeremy Lith.   
I won't forget it now. 

I was that great doctor that was just folded into the situation too late, after the outcome had already been rigged. 

Not that it stopped me from trying. 

I worked for longer than I should have and fought with every tool I had but some days it doesn't matter what you do. 

And maybe it was just that my barriers were still weak. 

Or maybe it was that the whole thing was senseless and should have been prevented. 

Or maybe this was just one of those cases that was a little too close to home. 

 

But he just had a simple broken arm. 

 

I finished out my shift. No one else was even admitted while I was there which was both a blessing and a curse. It made my 8 hours feel like weeks. 

At exactly midnight I clocked out, I took a shower, I changed back into my regular clothes and I found myself standing at the doorway of Earl's Pub without even thinking. 

The bell above the door is what brought me out of my head and I stood there in the doorway looking up at it as it rang and stilled and sat. Two patrons behind me on the sidewalk pushed past and I stepped back out on the street to let them go inside. 

And then I turned around and left. 

Sleeping was productive. 

Spiraling was not. 

So I shuffled home, crossing the dark empty Tuesday night campus without seeing another soul. I reached my door and beeped myself in with my thumbprint and my chest sank when I saw that the bathroom light was still on. 

 

He was still awake. 

I was hoping to crawl into bed and just forget everything, but those plans went to hell when the door closing behind me alerted him that I was home. He emerged from the bathroom already dressed to sleep and headed into our tiny kitchen. He grinned at me as he pulled open the fridge causing the light flooding our tiny dorm to double. I nodded at him and ducked my head hoping that would be enough. 

"You're a little late," he said. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah. I showered at work," I muttered as I dropped my bag and discarded my jacket. 

I'm an awful liar. I just wanted to make it to the bed and hide and I almost made it. I did. But in my tired state I made the stupid decision to sit down on the bed to unlace my shoes and to ditch my jeans for the night and I had to face out into the room to do that. 

And I still could have shrugged him off with being tired. I could have faked a migraine. Something. I could have made it I swear, but he made the stupid decision to touch me. 

And he touched me with his left hand. 

His left hand that had a tiny micro scar just to the side of his thumb. 

It was just too close to home. 

I didn't think, I picked up his hand and I ran my thumb over his.

And I lost complete control. 

Every emotion a human can have all tore out of my chest at once like a sports team crashing through a paper banner. They spilled out leaving shreds of my soul under their feet and the emotion that decided to stick behind and scream the loudest was pure blind terror. I buried my face in the side of his hip and clung to him with desperation. I clung to him like the tiny beetles in the summer used to cling to my hair when I would go swimming with my cousins as a kid. Like it was my only way to survive and make it back to dry land and he was going to have to peel me off. I couldn't let go on my own.

He didn't peel me off of him. He held me where I was. He let me cling, and scream, and break. 

It could have been him. 

 

It still could be. 

 

I can't be at peace with the fact that I could do everything in my power and he still might not be safe because no one will take care of him like me. 

And up until that moment I think that in the back of my mind I'd imagined him leaving for the stars and me staying safely behind. We didn't really talk about it, we still had too far to go before that decision had to be set but I had always imagined I could let him go. 

That was stupid, I realize that now. 

Right now I don't even want to let him out of my sight. 

I can't get close enough. I'm clawing and and pulling and begging him for nothing concrete. 

Just please. 

Please. 

Something. 

Please. 

I'm vaguely aware of his fingers in my hair, holding my head as he hugs me tight. But it's like it's happening to someone else. It's like my emotional pain sensors are overloaded with too much to do, kicking regular sensations to the back of the line to wait their turn til this is over. 

I'm apologizing and I'm not sure who to. 

But he's here. 

He's alive.

He's safe. 

And somehow that makes it through the chaos. 

And I feel stupid. 

And raw. 

And I'm muttering. 

How I wish I was a good doctor and not a great one. 

Then I could let this go. 

That must be the last straw. I sound too out of it. He pushes back slightly and tells me to lie down. 

And I will. 

I swear. 

Just... 

"Hang on," I ask. "I just..." but what I need is stupid. I can't ask for it out loud. 

I just do, instead. 

I need to make sure that he's real. That he's here. And that he's ok. So I pull back and scan over his face, with my eyes, fingers, hands. He grabs my wrist and shakes his head but it's not to really stop me. It's his way of asking what on earth is going on. 

"You're ok?" I ask him and that makes him laugh but it's not because it's funny. It's an incredulous burst. He thinks I've lost my mind. 

"Yes. I'm fine. But you're not. What happened?" He sits down next to me and I touch his shoulder, his arm, his chest. "I swear I'm fine. I'm here. I'm not even tired. What is going on with you?" He asks. His tone is joking. He's keeping this light. But his face can't lie anymore than mine can. He's terrified. I'm freaking him out. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry it's ok. I'm ok. I didn't mean to scare you," I say. 

"Too late," he says. 

I let out a deep breath. And I shake my head. 

"I had a patient. I couldn't save," I say. It's a fact. It happened. I can distance myself now. 

"Oh," he says. Like that explains it all. 

But it doesn't. 

Not really. 

I've lost people before. 

And haven't lost myself. 

"This was different," I start. I shift and grab his hand. 

His hand that broke me. And I shake my head. And try and explain. 

"I need you to know. That you saved my life," I said. 

"Bones..." he says, his voice soft and dismissive but I can't let him brush this off. 

"No," I said. "Kid, just listen. Ok?" I stare at his hand, where it's resting in mine. I can say this. I think. But I can't look at him. Not yet. 

I take a deep breath. 

"When I met you I had nothing left. And you saved me. You did. Don't argue with me. I'll hit you," I said. And he chuckles which helps. "And I love you. I do. But it scares the shit out of me. Because I can't lose you. And this kid tonight he didn't even look like you. It should have been ok. I should have just done my job and been ok. But he was allergic, just like you. And he wasn't my patient. I would have caught it if he was." 

"Oh," he says. 

"Yeah. And I can't lose you. I can't lose you. Nope. I just...I can't...I can't. I can't..." and I shake my head. But words stop forming. I can't think. 

I just shake. 

And shake. 

And shake. 

And tears that I am sick to death of having cloud my vision and I can't even blink them away. I just let them overflow and fall. 

"Ok," he says. He flicks off the light and the dark makes me flinch. I grab out at him and he scoots himself backward and makes me lay down with him. "I get it," he says. I let him pull me over, mostly because I have no damn choice. I can't let him go. 

I can't. 

I grab ahold of him in every way that I can and it hurts my hands and my arms I'm clutching so hard. But I don't give a damn. 

"I'll go wherever you go," I admit, because it's true. 

"I'm not going anywhere except to sleep," he says. And I shake my head, harder this time. 

"No. When we're done. When you leave. I'm going too. I can't trust anyone to make sure you're ok but me. Ok? You hear me?" I say. He grabs my hand and presses it to his face so I can feel him nod." 

"Ok," he says. And I let out a sigh. And try and relax. 

I rest my head on his arm with my forehead against his chest and I try and relax. 

"I love you too, you know," he says. 

"I do know. I tried to stop you. But you won't listen to reason," I mutter. Trying to get us back to normal. To forget I lost my shit. He usually dives at the chance. Serious is not his favorite place to be but he runs his fingers through my hair and he sighs. 

"If you asked me to stay here I would," he says and everything slows.

I'd never ask him to do that. Never in a million years. But I know he's telling me the truth when he says that. And that makes the world shift. And everything is ok. 

"I know you would," I say. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> poor Bones.


End file.
